


Yes Sir

by Asexuallaw



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom!Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Military Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crop, Smut, Spanking, military uniform, top!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:51:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asexuallaw/pseuds/Asexuallaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“When I tell you to do something, you'll do best to listen and obey, d'you understand?”</p><p>“Ah, yes sir-”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes Sir

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I'm trying to update my other stuff but-
> 
> (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I mean come on  
> Also these two are like my puppets  
> I need to learn to write longer smut scenes when I include them in stories and I use John and Sherlock for practice tbh

It was a wonder it still fit. He had forgotten it, pushed away in the back of his wardrobe, being put there for the sole purpose of not really wanting to relive the past. It was just too much.

But now, he silently wondered, and cursed himself, why he had been such a git about it. It was like the uniform melted around him in understanding that its owner had put it back on. The green undershirt was tight but loose around his chest, and the brown jacket, though tight at the wrists, wrapped intricately around his back and torso. The trousers were a bit snug as well, mainly round the buttocks, but the uniform was incomplete without them. As well as the combat boots, a dull brown, and the tags which hung off his neck lazily.

As he looked at himself, his mind wandered to the genius just downstairs. His genius. He suddenly remembered the last time they had been surrounded by uniformed men; Baskerville. When John saluted and barked at the poor soldier, Sherlock seemed...pleased. He smirked at the doctor's authority, but nothing else was said. A pity, really. But to be fair, this had been before they got together. Before John (finally) subdued to his feelings, and made a mess of Sherlock for the first time in the front door hallway. God bless Mrs. Hudson hadn't been home. 

So John was going to make good use of this.

When John came into the living room to show Sherlock that his uniform still fit, the detective stared at him, eyes dilated. And John was able to pick up a bit of a whimper from the taller man, and if Sherlock had let himself it would have turned into a moan. John quirked one brow, surprised he had not been bombarded with rude remarks concerning how big he might have been for the uniform. But they never came. They stared at each other, quite awkwardly to add, and Sherlock hummed.

“It...suits you.”

“Well I would hope so...but yeah, whaddya think?”

“It's fine.” Sherlock answered, a bit too quickly. John nodded, pursing his lips and running his tongue over the bottom one. He pulled the jacket closer round his body and clenched his fist, holding his head up high in a dominative manner. For whatever reason. The doctor marched over to Sherlock's seat, but the detective tried to hide himself behind his laptop. Which of course John was having none of, so he grabbed it and set it to the side. Sherlock looked up in surprise, blue eyes wide. 

“Sherlock...it's been a while.”

“...since?”

John laughed, quite loudly too. He had gotten a bit horny earlier during work after Sherlock texted him a list of "different toys we should try sometime". So he decided that as soon as he had gotten home and changed into something more comfy, he would march downstairs and well...the rest can tell itself. Finding the uniform was a sort of topping on the cake.

“You know bloody well what I'm talking about. Now I don't know if you've been having some sort of transport deficiency or  _what_ , but it has been ages. You know I love you, right?”

Sherlock's face contorted to a look of confusion and shock and he slowly stood up, looming over John, but still submissive under the short mans gaze. 

“Of course I do...I love you too, John...it still feels weird, us. But-”

John put a finger to Sherlock's lips, silencing him. “Don't turn this into something squishy. Fluff makes me go easy on you. I saw the hole in the top shelf of the fridge. I've got nowhere to put  _my_ things now, and I'm very upset about that.”

“John-”

“ ** _Excuse_** you?! Is that at all  _any_ way to address your captain?!”

Sherlock paused and he felt a twinge in his trousers. John really wanted to go all out? Not that he was complaining, it really had been quite some time since they were last intimate. And even longer still since some form of roleplay was initiated into the mix. If he remembered correctly, the last time they had played pretend in the bedroom was a sort of teacher and student romance. Sherlock still had the school girls uniform somewhere in his room. But that didn't come close in comparison to...this. 

So of course he would play along. It was, after all, a dream come true to him.

“Sorry, sir-”

“You will stand and salute any and all times I am around you, d'you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Sherlock immediately stopped slouching and stood to attention, shoulders in a straight line on either side of him. John walked around him, hands behind his back, and Sherlock followed him with his sharp gaze. He hadn't noticed John grabbing the riding crop from behind his chair, but when he felt the head of it brush against his inner thigh his breath hitched. John stood in front of him again, fondling the crop in his hands.

“I want you to listen very closely,” John whispered. But Sherlock still heard him. “I'm going to clean up the mess you made in the kitchen...when I'm done I want to come to my room with you sprawled out on the bed, completely bare. Have I made myself clear?”

Sherlock nodded, no words in the English dictionary enough to answer, and he dashed to John's room, stripping off various articles of clothing along the way. He almost tripped on the last step.

John chuckled, sticking the riding crop in his belt and going to the kitchen. He picked up an array of stained beakers and put them in Sherlock's side of the sink, quickly sanatizing his hands with soap and water. He dried off and looked at the various spills on the floor and cabinets. Honestly.

And Sherlock wondered why they never did it in here.

A resounding thump came from his room, and John stopped. He put down the tea towel and stepped out of the kitchen, leaning against the wall in case he heard the same noise come again.

He strained his ears and could barely hear soft moans coming from upstairs, Sherlock obviously. If he was doing what the doctor thought he was, then that meant bad news for the detective. John ignored the rest of the mess in favor of the gift from God himself upstairs in his bed. He quickly climbed the steps and threw open his door.

“Mm...tut tut, Sherlock. And to think I was gonna go easy on you.”

Sherlock looked at John through half lidded lashes, one hand firmly on his cock while the others fingers teased at his hole. When John walked in it was if he had been put on pause, and the detective only stared at him.

John made his way to the bed, keeping his clothes on. It wouldn't be fun if he took them off. He rubbed the tip of the crop across the bed, then slowly but surely up Sherlock's thigh. “Did I say you could start without me? Let go, get your fingers out of your arse.”he ordered, firm but not yet raising his voice. Sherlock moaned in protest, which earned him a harsh spank to the thigh. As soon as the leather came into contact with his skin, his hands were back on either side of him, and John smirked. 

“Look at you...so ready for my cock you don't know how to hold back.”

“John,  _please-_ ”

_**SMACK!** _

This time, directly on his bottom.

The detective threw his eyes open in shock, and barely had time to recover before John gave him another rough spanking on the same spot. 

“You sure are good at listening, aren't you soldier? You will address me as captain. When I tell you to do something, you'll do best to listen and obey, d'you understand?”

“Ah, yes sir-”

**_SMACK!_ **

“I can't here you, soldier. Speak up!”

“Sir, yes sir!”

John felt a twinge in his pants and he growled, quickly undoing his belt. He tore it off and pulled down his trousers until they went to his thigh. 

“Good...now spread your legs, there's a good boy. God, you look so fucking perfect like this Sherlock.”

John climbed onto the bed on his knees, crawling and leaning over Sherlock with one hand still holding the crop and the other grabbing one of Sherlock's legs. He ran the crop over Sherlock's chest, brushing past the detectives nipples. That earned him a shaky breath from the taller, who was having a very hard time holding still.

 “Tell your captain how much you want him, Sherlock.”

 “Please, I want-no, ah, I  _need_ you, captain. I need you so much-”

“I'll bet you do. You're such a slut for my cock, aren't you Sherlock? Such a filthy fucking slut-”

“ _Nnf!_ ”

“Sit up, soldier.”

Sherlock did as he was told until he was looking up at John, who was still on his knees. The doctor pulled down the red pants and his cock sprang to life, foreskin exposed and tip leaking with pre come. Sherlock moaned and could feel himself salivating.

“Go on, then. That's an order, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sherlock crawled over, putting his hands on John's hips. With one swift move he took John in his mouth, completely to the shaft. Short digits soon found their way into his messy brown locks and he reached one hand up to fondle John's balls while his mouth engulfed his penis. Sherlock pulled back until he was kissing the tip and he lapped at the pre come, letting it drip down his chin as he licked at John's glans.

“Jesus, Sherl-”

Sherlock smirked and brought the entirety of John's cock back into his mouth until his nose tickled against blond hairs. He had had plenty of practice on John and bananas to develop quite a spectacular gag reflex. John certainly seemed to appreciate it.

Sherlock balanced the blonds balls between his fingers, pressing against them with his thumb and squeezing them gently. This caused John to buck his hips without meaning to, and Sherlock felt the meatus brush the back of his throat. He moaned, removing his mouth from John's cock and looking up at the blond, mouth partially open.

“Someone's eager to fuck my mouth.”

John gave him a spank to the bottom and growled.

“Watch your mouth, soldier. I'm more than certain I gave you something to do, and it wasn't back talking me.”

“...sorry sir.”

Sherlock kissed gently at the foreskin to further his apology before putting John back into his mouth. Immediately he started bobbing up and down, lips in a perfect 'O' and covering John in saliva. The doctor groaned, dropping the riding crop and putting both hands in Sherlock's hair.

The detective thought about grabbing it and throwing it somewhere, or grabbing it and not letting John have it back until he promised to be nice. But there was only one solution he could see John taking; spanking Sherlock with his bare hands. And John had rough, callused, soldier hands. He had the hands of a shooter, of a fighter, a killer. Certainly not a fluffy tea drinker. So he kept it where it was, on the edge of the bed.

Sherlock once again started handling John's balls, which were heavy and tight, and he knew that any minute now he'd be swallowing ejaculation. Not that he'd entirely mind, but Sherlock wanted to go down a completely different road. Besides, it was a miracle his own cock hadn't exploded onto the bed sheets yet. And he wanted to be touched.

So once again he pulled off, and this time away from John, laying back down on the bed. But not before grabbing the doctors tags, putting them on as if it were completely normal. He spread his legs open, as wide as he could get them, and before John could open his mouth he grunted,

“Captain Watson... _fuck me_.”

John blinked, hands still in the air from where they tugged at Sherlock's hair, cock hard and leaking. Then he chuckled, grabbing the riding crop from the spot he had dropped it.

“On your stomach then.”

Sherlock eagerly obliged, rolling onto his stomach and stuffing his face in the pillow. He lifted his bum in the air, ready and wanton for John. The doctor ran the shaft of the riding crop across his finger until he was fondling the tip.

“Count for me, won't you Sherlock?”

“Hh, count wha-”

_**SMACK!** _

The riding crop was brought down stridently against the detectives bottom, who barely managed to let out a gentle moan before John was cuffing him over and over again, in different spots on both cheeks. He occasionally switched hands, giving both hands a chance to whack at Sherlock's plump bum. Sherlock writhed under him, svelte body pushing upward against the covers in reaction to John's spanking. His cheeks were turning a dull pink color, shaking under the force of the crop.

“How many was that?”

“I-I don't-”

**_SMACK!_ **

“How many was that, soldier?!”

“Forty two! Ah, J-captain...please...”

John tossed the crop and brought a hand to knead Sherlock's arse. It was steaming hot under his cool touch, and the detective winced, but he was glad to feel John's hand in favor of the leather. That was short lived, however, when John brought his hand back and spanked jarringly on Sherlock's right cheek.

“J-ohn!”

And he repeated this process, the rugged hands Sherlock loved to kiss coming in contact with his red and raw cheeks rather harshly. 

“How much do you want my cock, Sherlock? How much do you want it, come on, you've gotta beg-”

“I  _need_ you John...please, I fucking  _need-_ ”

“Shh, don't strain yourself. I'm gonna give you exactly what you need, soldier. I'm gonna take good care of you.”

John leaned down and kissed tenderly at Sherlock's cheek and reached over to the bedside table where he grabbed the always ready bottle of lube and a condom.

“You didn't open yourself up good enough, so I'll take care of the rest. Spread your legs, as much as your sore will let you. God, you're beautiful.” 

John squirted a handful of lube into his palm and rubbed it into his fingers, squeezing the bottle and letting the cold liquid run down Sherlock's arse crack. Sherlock winced at the change in temperature and tugged at the sheets, lifting his bum higher into the air. John brought himself down until he faced Sherlock's puckered hole, tight and so eager to be filled. He held onto one cheek for balance while he put one finger against Sherlock's entrance, not yet putting it in.

The taller groaned, shaking his arse impatiently. John chuckled, and slowly pushed in a lubed finger, not yet opening up as much as needed. Sherlock bit his lip and looked at John over his shoulder, who caught his gaze while putting in another finger. He smiled, giving Sherlock's bum another kiss. The detective buried his face in the pillow to hide his own smile and bucked against John's fingers.

John spread his fingers open, scissoring and opening up Sherlock's hole to make room for his cock. Then he put in a third finger, and that small action caused Sherlock's eyes to widen and he moaned John's name.

“Please-!”

John ignored his plea and twisted his fingers around, pulling them out and back in until he was fucking Sherlock with his digits. He clutched at Sherlock's leg for support, leaning up and starting at his neck and peppering kisses down his back. Benevolent and lenient, brushing his lips against the small of Sherlock's back, just above the crack of his arse. All the while his fingers worked the detective's warm muscles, lube slicking up and helping to make room.

“I love it when you're so soft under my touch...”

A kiss against a shoulder blade.

“It's like I'm petting a kitten...”

“Is that what you want me to be-ah, your kitten, captain?”

John paused, pulling his fingers out. He brought his hand to tug gently at Sherlock's curls, pulling his head back so they could look at each other. He smirked, pressing a chaste kiss to the detectives Adams apple. 

“Maybe another time...for now, you're a soldier. And I've got to put you in your place.”

John sat back up on his knees, grabbing the lube and pouring more into his hand. He gripped his cock, which had wrongfully been ignored amongst the bed sheets and military trousers, and started slicking himself up. He threw his head back while he lubed his cock, thumb spreading over the tip and adding pre come to the mix of Liquid Silk and Sherlock's spit. He let out a harsh groan and Sherlock turned around on his back, bringing a leg to toe at John's thigh.

“Don't get distracted, captain...not when you've got a naughty soldier to punish.”

John growled, grabbing Sherlock's leg and spreading them both open. He grabbed the condom and tore it open with his teeth, taking it from the packaging and rolling it carefully onto his prick. He tossed the packaging somewhere and then pulled Sherlock towards him rather than crawling back to him and lined himself up, tip kissing the tallers entrance. Sherlock sat up on his elbows and bit his lip, wrapping his legs around John's waist.

“Come on, captain...give it to me.”

John brought a hand up to cover Sherlock's mouth as he pushed in, getting right to the shaft before pulling out and slamming back in. Sherlock cried out and fell back onto the bed, bringing John with him. The doctor sat up best he could, long legs still wrapped deliciously around him. He held onto Sherlock's legs as he made a rhythm with pushing in, pulling out, slowly at first, until bucking his hips faster and properly fucking the brunet. 

The bed covers moved with every thrust, silky material helping John move the detective without any trouble. Sherlock writhed under him, clutching at the sheets and pulling on them. John heard a very faint tearing noise but he couldn't be damned to care, not when he's got one of the Worlds Wonders wrapped around him like a bow on a present. A bow John wanted to undo, wanted to tear apart and get to the prize inside.

John reached up and took hold of Sherlock's nipples, and the detective grunted, obviously pleased with the new body contact. The doctor licked his lips, pulling on the perky nipples and twisting them around in his fingers, turning them into a perfect bud. How he so badly wanted to lick at them, to taste them and claim them with his mouth. But that was what Sherlock wanted, so he let them go, hands roaming down the detectives body.

His fingers ghosted over Sherlock's rib cage, clear signs of failure to consume in about three days presented in front of him. That made him increase his speed; he was punishing Sherlock after all. The detective purred (like a kitten) and arched his back, bringing his entire body up and down with every thrust John gave. Eager to help as much as he could. 

“ _Fuck_...if only you could see yourself Sherlock...see how easy it is for me to untangle you-”

“God,  _John_! Harder, harder-!”

_**SMACK!** _

Right against Sherlock's thigh. The detective retorted by crying out, head leaning to the side on the pillow.

“You don't tell  _me_ what to do, understood? I make the orders 'round here-”

John grabbed Sherlock's arms and lifted him up until the taller was in his lap, thighs intertwined as Sherlock bounced up and down on John's cock. He put his arms around John's neck while the blond gripped his arse, kneading his cheeks with his fingers. 

“Now talk like the dirty slut you are.”

“Oh,  _John-_ captain Watson, your cock feels so good inside me..! Ah, nnn-I can't...I need, ah! It fills me up so good-!”

John held onto his pale hips.

“Shit, Sherlock, that's it-bounce faster,  _good boy_...you're gonna come, aren't you? Without your captain even needing to touch you-”

“Yes, sir-”

He had almost forgotten about his own cock which was pressed harshly against their bodies. 

Sherlock twisted his hips, leaning back as his arse swallowed John's prick with every movement. His dark locks fell unceremoniously into his face, springing around all over as he was fucked. Since he had previously given John a blowjob, it shouldn't be long before the doctor exploded inside of him.

“Please, come inside of me, captain-”

John's grip on his hips tightened.

“Ah..! That's the plan-”

Sherlock moaned and bounced once more before he spilled all over himself and John, cum shooting into the air and landing on their chests and Sherlock's face. He gasped, cock twitching, and as another load pushed through John let out a deep growl and came himself. White semen filled the condom still laid around his cock and he pulled out without warning, tearing the condom off and pushing Sherlock onto the bed so the rest of his release poured onto the detective. Sherlock opened his mouth eagerly and licked at his lips, cleaning up John's mess.

“Christ...Sherl...”

John collapsed onto the bed, face first into the pillow. Sherlock laughed, turning John around so he could lay on his chest. The shorter grinned, wrapping an arm around the tallers shoulders and bringing him up to kiss gently against his lips. Sherlock returned the favor, hands coming to roam John's soldier body and he tugged at the clothes.

“These are tedious...take them off.”

John chuckled. “I'll let you have this one, but only because I'm sweating like a pig.”

Sherlock brought the blankets up to cover himself and he leaned his head in his hand, watching John remove every piece of clothing he had on and tossing them away to the side. Then he climbed under the covers and Sherlock was immediately on his chest, arms lazily wrapped around him.

They laid there, swimming in their own post coital pheromones, before John let out an exhausted sigh to break the silence. Sherlock lifted his head up and looked at John curiously, and the doctor felt his shoulders slump slightly as he began playing with Sherlock's hair.

“That was fantastic...like always, honestly. I just wish I could get it up as much as I used to...if only you knew me in my Uni days...I'm getting old, Sherlock.”

Sherlock didn't say anything at first, putting his face into John's neck and just breathing him in. He kissed at the sweat covered skin and chuckled quietly.

“We're both getting old, John.”


End file.
